


Coexistence

by KittyHamilton



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: M/M, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-04-26 15:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5009242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyHamilton/pseuds/KittyHamilton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaz is furious with Ocelot after learning the truth about Big Boss, and they seem destined to become enemies. Until that time comes, however, they must live and work together on Mother Base.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning, Middle, End

**1975**

  
Kaz cast his gaze around the empty restaurant. Few lamps gleamed from the corners, leaving ink black shadows among the tables and chairs. Anyone could be watching and waiting. In other circumstances sitting at a table with view of the Los Angeles skyline at sunset might have been a treat, but all he could imagine were the angles a sniper could hit him from. After months of decrypting coded messages pulled out of holes and arranging clandestine meetings in bumfuck nowhere, this was exposed.  
  
“Relax. The windows are bulletproof.”  
  
He looked across the table at his contact. The voluptuous blonde’s neckline plunged so low it was a wonder her dressed stayed on. She’d have been a perfect Bond girl if she weren’t a decade too old for the role.  
  
“When will he be here?” Kaz asked, twisting the stem of his wine glass back and forth. The woman had brought a bottle of Merlot. He’d pretended to sip at it. How many bottles of French wine had been left on Mother Base when it sunk into the ocean?  
  
The woman—she hadn’t volunteered her name—drank deeply from her own glass, leaving a smudge of lipstick. “I’m boring you?” she said with mock distress, fluttering her long eyelashes.  
  
Kaz recognized that there was a part of him enjoying the attention, artificial as it was. A verbal sparring match tinged with sexual innuendo with a femme fatale might have been a thrill a year ago. Now, he barely managed was a smirk in response.  
  
She put down the glass and tilted her head, looking over his shoulder. Kaz followed her eyes.  
  
A man stood in a doorway to the kitchen. He swept his hand out in a strange gesture, like he was half pointing, half presenting himself to an audience.  
  
“Guess our time is up,” the woman said, rising from the table with a wink. “Have fun.”  
  
She rested a hand on the man’s shoulder, and they exchanged some words. Then she kissed him on the cheek, and was gone.  
  
“A pleasure to finally meet you in person, Kazuhira Miller,” the man said as he approached. There was a Texas twang to his accent, and a pair of cowboy boots on his feet. Despite the white hair, Kaz guessed they were about the same age.  
  
Kaz stood to meet him, extending a hand. The man took it in his own. His gloves were red leather. “You’re hard to get a hold of,” Kaz murmured. “What should I call you?”  
  
“The name’s ‘Ocelot.” He took a seat where the blonde had been.  
  
Kaz was tempted to remain standing, struggling to contain the nervous energy inside, but clamped down on the feeling, forcing himself back down.  
  
“‘Ocelot’, huh?” Obviously a code name, but Kaz hadn’t expected a real one. “I saw ocelots while I was in Columbia. Beautiful cats.”  
  
Ocelot smiled, as if the compliment was for him. “They’re much more than that.”  
  
So this was him. The network of messengers Zero had connected Kaz to were maddeningly circumspect about the identity of this old friend of Snake. Kaz had filled in the blanks with images of a grand manipulator or super-spy, someone so deep undercover that he rivalled Zero in his elusiveness. The real Ocelot (if this was really him) appeared normal compared to those imaginings. But Kaz wasn’t going to make the mistake of underestimating him.  
  
This Ocelot was his one and possibly only link to Big Boss. He’d jumped through the hoops, been as scrupulous as possible with the messengers leading him up to this point. This was a man he needed to impress. He had to assure Ocelot of his practicality and reliability. Be the professional businessman.  
  
But the question he needed an answer to bubbled up. “Where’s Big Boss?”  
  
Ocelot said nothing for a moment. Kaz could feel those cold eyes observing him carefully. “I can’t tell you.”  
  
Kaz slammed his hands on the tabletop. His palms stung with the impact.“You ‘can’t tell me’? I’ve been trying to get into contact with you for months, playing little games with go betweens, and now you won’t even—”  
  
“Calm down.”  
  
Beads of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. The urge to leap across the table and strangle the perfectly calm, perfectly reasonable man twitched at his fingers. He balled his hands into fists.  
  
“I _am_ sorry,” Ocelot continued, “but there’s no other choice. You were Big Boss’s closest associate. All eyes and ears are turned towards you. My friend—” Ocelot pointed to the lipstick mark the woman had left on the rim of her glass. “—had to deal with a Cipher agent tailing you.”  
  
“What? But...I took precautions—”  
  
“Not enough.There are never going to be enough.”  
  
He’d failed. All that intel gathering, all those favors traded for safe passage, and he might have led Cipher straight to Ocelot...and Big Boss. The fight drained from his limbs. He slumped down into his chair. “Why am I here then?”  
  
“For help.” Ocelot rested his elbows on the wooden tabletop, leaning forward. His voice was steady, his expression calm. “ I have contacts, money, and resources you don’t. And Big Boss…I can keep you updated on his condition.” He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table.  
  
Kaz took it gently between his fingers. Was this really Snake? Bandages covered half his face. The arm visible over the sheets was already scrawnier than what Kaz remembered. Nothing pointed to a location; he could be in any hospital. The only distinguishing detail was a vase full of white flowers.  
  
He looked weak. Helpless.  
  
_Where are you?_  
  
Kaz swallowed around the lump in his throat. The remains of MSF’s soldiers were shattered. He was their rock only in the storm. When they were lost, he reminded them of their purpose. When they fell into despair, he spoke hopeful words. He couldn’t afford to fall apart when they needed him, and he hadn’t. He’d been trying so hard to be strong.  
  
The Boss could have done it easily. He always knew what to say. What to do. But the Boss wasn’t there. He was in this...mystery hospital, if it even was a hospital. Broken and hurt.  
  
Tears blurred Kaz’s vision, spilling over and rolling down his cheeks. He opened his mouth to apologize, to make some excuse for his weakness, all that came out was a strangled sob.  
  
So much for first impressions. He pushed up his aviators, rubbing at his eyes.  
  
“Miller.”  
  
Kaz looked up, and was surprised by what he saw. There was a softness to Ocelot’s expression despite his cold eyes and sharp features.  
  
“I know it’s hard,” Ocelot said gently, “but in our line of work, sometimes the only way to protect those we care about is to keep our distance. Even when it hurts. Being by his bedside, knowing his location, won’t make it easier. We just have to be patient, and play our roles until he wakes up.”  
  
“ _If_ he wakes up.”  
  
“He will.”  
  
Kaz sniffed. “How do you know?”  
  
“It’s what I choose to believe.”  
  
“Heh.” Kaz pushed his aviators back into place to hide his reddened eyes. “You can just pick and choose what you believe?”  
  
“A valuable skill. Choose to believe in Big Boss, and his recovery. It will keep you going on the long road ahead.” Ocelot reached for the photo.  
  
Kaz gave Snake a final look, etching the image into his memory, then handed it back. “You’re right,” Kaz said. “I’ll believe in the Boss, and if that isn’t enough to keep me going, the ghosts of my dead comrades will. Cipher will pay for what they’ve done.”  
  
Ocelot grabbed the wine bottle and scrutinized the the label. His nose wrinkled. “In the middle of California and she still gets a French wine. But it will do.”  
  
He turned the glass so that the lipstick print was facing away and poured himself a generous serving of Merlot. “To Big Boss.”  
  
Kaz couldn’t remember the last time he had needed a drink so badly. He clinked his glass against Ocelot’s. The red liquid swirled like blood. “To Big Boss. And a fruitful collaboration.”  
  
In that moment, Kaz allowed himself to feel like it was all going to be okay.

 

 

**1984**

  
Room 101 felt colder than it ever had, like the metal walls were sucking the heat from Kaz’s body. Kaz sat in his usual spot for when they were doing interrogations, behind the table. Ocelot paced around the center of the room, idly circling the chair prisoners were strapped in for torture. He had dark circles under his eyes, and moved slowly, as if he’d just woken up from sleep. A side effect of coming out of the hypnosis, perhaps?  
  
Self-hypnosis. It was insane. Like this was all some kind of bizarre nightmare.  
  
“What was it all for?” Kaz voice sounded like it belonged to someone else, measured despite the ice crushing his internal organs. “If the Boss has some plan, what is it?”  
  
“The real Big Boss is working separately from us, to create his new nation.” Ocelot spoke the same way he always did. Reasonable. Calm. Like his world hadn’t ended.  
  
“New nation...?”  
  
“A military nation above and apart from all. The true 'Outer Heaven.’” Ocelot lifted his arm, like he was about to point, , but stopped midway and ran his fingers through his hair. “Something created to maintain world balance. Independent of the struggles for supremacy, for personal profit, the cycles of revenge between countries. It'll be an army all right, but more. Big Boss is building a nation. But...until it's complete, we support the other Big Boss. The phantom carries on his legend...his meme. That is Big Boss's plan.”  
  
No. This wasn’t a dream. Revenge, building Diamond Dogs with the Boss. A new home. That was the dream. _This_ was reality. His missing arm throbbed harder than it had in months. Not since the diamond had be placed on his armband, and he’d been touched by the Boss’s dream of the future.  
  
No. Not Big Boss. A replacement.  
  
Kaz had been tricked and lied to and used. By Big Boss. His friend.  
  
“So that's the way it is,” Kaz rasped, “Nine years ago, I thought everything had been taken from me. But now, I really have lost it all. The Boss, and the future we were building together.”  
  
“One day, the age of Big Boss's sons will arrive,” Ocelot said, as if Kaz hadn’t spoken. “They'll likely want to settle the score with him.We have to shape that age.”  
  
Had Ocelot even heard him, or did he just not care? The second options, certainly. Kaz was a convenient tool. Tools did what they were told. Their pain meant nothing.  
  
“We'll each have roles to play. Building the foundation for a revolution led by both Big Bosses—the true one, and the phantom.” He uncrossed his arms, sweeping a hand in a long arc, as if to suggest the scope of the Boss’s vision.  
  
“No…” Kaz spat out the word, barely pronouncing it past the tension in his neck. “Big Boss can go to hell. I'll make the phantom and his sons stranger, to send him there.”  
  
He pushed off the table, leaning against the cane. Everything felt heavier. His foot—the missing one, the one he lost protecting Big Boss—burned like it was in hell already. “For that...I'll keep playing my role.”  
  
Ocelot stopped pacing. He turned on his heel so he was facing Kaz fully. The light made it hard to read his expression, but Kaz could imagine the familiar, penetrating stare.  
  
“Huh. You know…” Ocelot said, “Sooner or later there will only be one Boss. There's only room for _one_ Boss. His sons are fated to face each other someday too. If the day ever comes that you go back to Cipher, I'll aid the other son. And then you and I will be enemies , too.” He cocked his head to the side. “One of us will have to kill the other.”  
  
The final words were laden with promise. Kaz sneered. “Fine by me.” They’d never been friends. Having Ocelot as an enemy made a hell of a lot more sense than whatever relationship they had now. “I'll be ready for the new age.Until then, we'd better get used to coexisting.”  
  
He limped over to the door, and left Ocelot alone in the darkness.

 

 

**2005**

  


Kaz exhaled and watched his breath condense in the cold morning air. A fresh blanket of snow covered his property, gleaming. The sun was just beginning to creep up from behind the trees. Cataract surgery had been worth it, for views like these.  
  
Beauty aside, it would still take a hell of a time to clear the path and driveway. Better to focus on the porch, and the area around his front door. Kaz adjust his grip on the shovel, letting the bionic prosthetic take most of the weight, and shoved it into the snow.  
  
Ten minutes into his work, Kaz he spotted a figure walking up the hill, a speck of darkness on a white background. It wasn’t David. Even from a distance he could see the light hair and mustache.  
  
Besides David, Kaz didn’t have visitors. No one wanted to see him, and he embraced the isolation of his retirement. Could be someone with car trouble. As he got closer, Kaz could see was an older man, about his own age…  
  
A flash of panic sent a jolt through Kaz’s limbs. His hunting rifle hung on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. There was still time to grab it, run off into the woods. He knew the terrain. If he could find a good hiding place, wait for Ocelot to wander into view…  
  
But he didn’t move. He stayed there, rooted to the spot, until Revolver Ocelot stood a few feet from his porch, watching.  
  
Kaz had expected anger. Fear. Instead, he felt...  
  
“Ocelot.” The name felt strange on his lips after so many years. Should he have used the other one?  
  
“Miller.” His voice was raspier, his skin lined with age, but there was no mistaking him for anyone else. The trench coat he wore might have suited a cowboy, but not the weather. His shoulders trembling minutely from the cold.  
  
Kaz found his mouth curving into a smile. Ocelot responded with his own, the ridiculous mustache quirking like the whiskers of a cat.  
  
“That isn’t the best coat for this weather, you know,” Kaz said. He tossed the shovel aide.  
  
“Better than than the marshmallow you’re wearing.”  
  
“It’s a parka. And at least I’m warm.” Kaz licked his chapped lips nervously, then opened the front door a crack. “How about I get a fire going?.”  
  
Ocelot nodded and followed him in.


	2. Fire and Water

**2005**

Kaz and Ocelot had barely passed the door when they were confronted by the skitter of nails and the barking of a fuzzy hoard. Kaz scooted out of the way, unzipping his parka while his pair of wolfdogs greeted the new visitor.

Sprinkles pounced, resting her front paws on Ocelot’s chest and licking his cheek.

“Down,” he said. She fell back to all fours, tail wagging.

“They never listen to me.” Kaz pulled off his boots. Clumps of snow sprinkled the wood flooring. “Don’t dogs hate cats?”

“Nonsense.” Ocelot was rubbing the thick fur on Sprinkles’ neck. “They love cats. It’s why they chase them. Isn’t that right, darling?” The ‘darling’ was addressed to Blueberry, who had decided to settle between Ocelot’s legs.

Kaz was struck with a memory. Ocelot walking haltingly across the command platform, sporting a pair of sunglasses. Tiny D.D. weaving around his ankles. Ocelot was complaining, but the tone didn’t match the the words. Kaz could almost taste the the sea air, feel the gentle l wind as it blew across the sweat on his skin.

“Maybe,” Kaz said, “they recognize their great grandaddy.”

“Hm?”

“Those are D.D.’s grandpuppies.” He tossed his parka onto the coat rack. “They’re more husky than wolf, but you can still see the resemblance.”

Ocelot’s eyes widened, then a broad grin spread across his face. Kaz couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him so pleased. Perhaps it was nostalgia, or age had relaxed his boundaries.

Or something else entirely. Over so many years, everything could change.

Ocelot shrugged off his own coat. A bandolier of bullets wrapped around his torso, a holstered revolver at his hip. A shiver ran up Kaz’s back that had nothing to do with the cold. He took the coat from him without comment and hung it by the parka.

“And that one?” Ocelot pointed toward the armchair.

Kaz couldn’t see what Ocelot was pointing at from his angle, but there was only one thing it could be. “That’s Lady. Not one of D.D.’s descendants. Alaskan husky. My friend’s dogs were bullying her, so...he...gave her to me.”

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ Of all the subjects in the universe, he’d brought up Big Boss’s killer. Ocelot was nearly omniscient. What were the odds that he was unaware Kaz was in contact with David, a man who raised armies of sled dogs? Infinitesimal.

Kaz shot Ocelot a look. There was nothing on his face to indicate an emotion beyond amusement.

He stepped over Blueberry, then crouched down to dog level. “Adoptive grandchildren are still grandchildren. Here, girl.” He whistled softly.

Lady emerged from behind the chair, ears back, head low. She sniffed Ocelot’s extended hand. Ocelot was as still as a statue. Then, she leaned in, letting him scratch under her chin.

 

**1984**

Kaz stared out over the vastness of ocean as it stretched into the horizon. The air was heavy and damp. Droplets formed at the corners of his sunglasses. From behind him came the sounds of gunfire at the shooting range, along with Ocelot’s criticism of aiming technique.

Kaz had been avoided him for days now, but felt his presence like an itch on the back of his neck. Who knew what Ocelot got up to when Kaz wasn’t watching.

But Kaz was not waiting here, missing body parts blazing with pain, for Ocelot’s sake. A dark blur appeared in the mists. Pequod arrived at the helipad, the gusts from the blades sending Kaz’s coat fluttering against his legs.

The phantom stopped short when he saw Kaz waiting there, pausing for half a second before he hopped out. D.D. had no such hesitation, bounding up like he hadn’t seen Kaz in an age.

Maybe it was an age for a dog. Since Kaz had learned the truth, he hadn’t come to see the phantom off, or greet him upon return. He’d practically sequestered himself in his office, interacting with others only when absolutely necessary. D.D. leaned his head against Kaz’s leg and stared up at him with the innocent, adoring eyes of a puppy.

The phantom approached him slowly, watching.

“You eliminated the target?” Kaz asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Yes. I’d planned on taking him alive, but with with a guard that heavy…” The phantom shrugged his broad shoulders. There were no sign of injury, but sand had permeated every crevice of his sneaking suit. He’d probably lain in the dirt for hours waiting for the perfect shot. Kaz felt a rare pang of regret for Quiet’s absence.

“As long as our client is satisfied.”

Kaz didn’t know what else to say. Neither did the phantom, apparently. Ocelot’s voice rose behind them in what sounded like beginning of a lecture.

Something must have shown on his face at that, because the phantom said, “Kaz...” in a tone that was simultaneously pleading and chastizing.

Odd, to hear that nickname on a stranger’s voice.

Everyone called the phantom Big Boss; Kaz didn’t know if he could. It was now impossible to miss all the little details that separated this copy from the original. Subtleties of the facial structure, voice, demeanor, and movement.

If his eyes were undamaged, Kaz wondered, would he have known from the start?

“How can you forgive him so easily?” Kaz blurted out. It was not the first time he had asked. Another question he knew the answer to.

“The past is over. Diamond Dogs, the future of Outer Heaven: those are what matter now.”

Kaz bit back his retort. The phantom was a superior, and a stranger. Kaz had known who he was: a kind, quiet medic; the one who had held him back in the helicopter when he’d lost my mind with despair. Kaz had known the man the medic had been brainwashed into believing he was.

But he do not know this chimera.

A bolt of fire ran down the inside of Kaz’s wrist, like the tendons and ligaments were pulled taught. He ground his teeth together, resisting the urge to look down at the invisible source of pain. D.D. whined, nuzzling him in concern. Kaz reached down to stroke his head.

“The pain’s back,” the phantom said, looking Kaz up and down. “How bad?”

It was hellish. Kaz had hoped that, after the initial flare up, the pain would gradually fade away. It did occasionally disappear for a few days, only to come back in full force. Sometimes, it crippled him to such an extent he could only lay down and try to breath until it was over

“I’ll live.”

The man Kaz did not know raised his hand, as if to rest it on his shoulder, but the phantom seems to think better of it, letting his arm go slack. He nodded, then headed in the direction of the showers. D.D. followed after.

The phantom was not responsible for the breach between them. He had saved Kaz, supported him, even back when he had his own face. Big Boss has lost Kaz’s loyalty, but his phantom had more than earned it.

That didn’t make it easier, to look at that scarred face and know deceit and betrayal had put it there.

A cheer went up behind him. Full of bile and morbid curiosity, Kaz approached the the practicing soldiers and their teacher.

Ocelot twirled one of his revolvers like a Wild West show trick shooter. The men clustered around him, looking more like a group of excited fans than soldiers learning valuable techniques for combat.

“Ricochet shots require complete spacial awareness,” he was saying. “Not that I’d advise any of you to make the attempt at your skill level. Don’t want to discourage you, but some things require nature as much as nurture.”

“Not much point in telling them about it then, is there?” Kaz said. “Or are you just taking the opportunity to show off?”

The soldiers looked between Ocelot and Kaz, their discomfort palpable. Ocelot stopped his revolver mid-spin, and slid it into his holster.

Kaz shouldn’t have said that, but the pain and anger had made it difficult to keep his emotions in check. He knew the men had been watching him with uneasy eyes. They didn’t know why he was so angry, only that he was.

Of course, Ocelot had been uniformly placid and reasonable. They had no idea he’d tricked them. Kaz looked like the cruel and irrational XO, Ocelot the martyr for enduring his wrath without complaint.

“We were just finishing up,” Ocelot said. The men took the hint and dispersed like rats from a burning building.

It was hard to avoid thoughts of fire when Kaz felt flames curling around his toes. He shifted the position of his prosthetic, trying to take the weight off of it. Of course, there was no real foot, enduring no real pressure, so it didn’t relieve the burn at all.

Ocelot looked down his long, pointed nose at him. “You don’t have to like me. Or trust me. But if we’re going to work together effectively on this base, you can’t go disrespecting me like that in front of men I have authority over.”

Kaz sneered. “It’s not like they know you brought back a fake Big Boss. I’m sure your reputation will remain spotless.”

“Not _my_ reputation I’m worried about.”

The words hit Kaz like a kick in the gut. His heart pounded, and blood rushed to his limbs and face. Kaz hated that Ocelot was right. He hated _him_.

Kaz sputtered, too furious to articulate a comeback, but Ocelot was already walking away, heading up one of the stairways. Kaz limped after him as fast as his pain and prosthetic allowed.

“You have a hell of a lot of nerve,” Kaz spat. “Lecturing me about behaving around the men, after what you’ve done to them.”

“I haven’t done anything to them.” Ocelot spoke like it was the final word on the matter, but Kaz was just getting started.

“You helped Big Boss hide like a coward. You mutilated an MSF soldier and told us he was Big Boss.”

Ocelot stopped on the next step, glancing back. “Big Boss is—no.” He turned away and continued his ascent. “We’ve argued about this enough.”

But it wasn’t enough. Kaz was so full of venom he was ready to burst.

Ocelot climbed at a brisk pace—fast enough to make it hard to keep up, but slow enough so he didn’t appear to be fleeing. He was too proud to run.

“I don’t know how you live with yourself,” Kaz managed with effort, stumbling as his cane slipped off the edge of the next step. “All that time, pretending that a brainwashed man was an old friend. Hypnotizing yourself. It’s sick.”

Ocelot kept climbing, as if Kaz was not there at all. _If I could hurt him even a tenth as much as he hurt me._

“What’s wrong, won’t look at me? My arm, my foot, my sight—lost because of your lie. I’ll never be the same again. They didn’t just cut ‘em off. Pulled off the nails one by one. Then the fingers and toes. It was hell, but it was all right, because I was being strong for Big Boss, because I knew he was finally awake and he would save me.” Kaz’s voice broke. He hadn’t meant to go down that path. He tried another. “What were you doing while I was being tortured, I wonder? Laughing at me? Or were you getting off on it?”

Kaz’s whole body was aching with the effort of staggering up these stairs, trying to match Ocelot’s pace. He was less walking and more falling forward. The pain spurred him onward.

“I bet you were. Something’s wrong with you. The way you enjoy making people suffer. Did someone drop you when you were a baby? An electricity loving pervert fuck you at an impressionable age? You acted so reluctant to hurt Quiet, but I don’t think that was mercy. Women aren’t your thing, right?”

Ocelot didn’t turn. Didn’t flinch

“You’re such an old friend of Big Boss. I guess you think you’re special. You’re the one in contact with the real Big Boss. You were the one who knew where he was, who stayed at his side during the coma. You altered your mind and lied to everyone and orchestrated this whole damn thing for him.”

They reached the final balcony. There was nothing but a barricaded door with an under construction sign. Ocelot stopped dead, but didn’t turn to face Kaz.

Kaz leaned his weight against the railing, trying to catch his breath. “But none of that matters. Boss is gone, and you’re here, with me, and his fake. And who knows how long it will be before he needs you again. If he ever needs you again.” He laughed. “What’s so funny is that, despite everything, you’re just like me! You’re going to die chained up in a basement somewhere, being pulled to pieces for his sake, and Big Boss won’t care at all!”

“Shut up.”

But he couldn’t, not even if he wanted to. The dam had burst and the waves swept away everything their path.

“He’ll do to you what he did to me. He’ll ride off into the sunset without a second thought to what you had together or what you gave for him. Wherever that man is now, he’s not thinking of you. I knew him for years and he never mentioned your name. To him, your sacrifices mean nothing. Your loyalty means no—”

Pain blossomed across Kaz’s face, knuckles smashing against his jaw. It was not the pain of the impact, but the speed and surprise of it that staggered him. He dropped his cane, caught his heel against a step, and tumbled. The world spun, metal steps jabbed into his back. When everything stopped rotating, he was laying on his back on the landing, staring up at a sun that burned his sensitive eyes. He squeezed them shut

His body throbbed, but it was not the bruising that was the problem. The onset of real pain had encouraged the phantom kind. He could feel every stinging nail bed, the grinding of crushed bone.

Kaz curled in on himself, clutching at his poor arm to pull it too his chest, only to be met with empty air. He wanted to rub it and sooth it, but… Distantly he heard rapid footsteps against metal.

“Miller, are you hurt?”

Kaz couldn’t muster the strength to respond. He touched the stump of what was left of his arm. The stab of agony was so intense it took his breath away.

Kaz felt Ocelot’s presence next to him. He puts a hand on Kaz’s back and Kaz tried to pull away, unsuccessfully.

“Phantom pain, huh…”

“Just get the fuck away from me!” Kaz’s voice sounded cracked and pathetic. He don’t want Ocelot to see him like this. Anyone but him.

“Come on.”

Ocelot grabbed Kaz’s wrist and put the arm over his shoulder, pulling Kaz into a standing position and wrapping his own arm around Kaz’s waist. By now, exhaustion had eclipsed anger. Kaz let Ocelot drag him wherever he wished, unable to put up resistance.

Kaz was too focused on staying upright to pay attention to where they were heading. Sooner than he expect, he was in a room, slumping onto a bed.

It was a relief to just sprawl out on a soft surface. Kaz took deep, even breaths. Gradually, the pain receded enough for him to regain some sensibility.

He looked around. This was Ocelot’s room. Before Kaz had time to be horrified at this revelation, he spotted Ocelot approaching with a syringe.

“Don’t you dare,” Kaz said weakly.

“It’s morphine.”

“I don’t believe you.” Kaz couldn’t disguise the note of rising panic in his words. He was completely disabled, in Ocelot’s room, at his mercy, and Kaz was far from his favorite person right now.

Ocelot scoffed and took a determined step forward, holding the syringe aloft. Kaz tensed, readying himself for a struggle.

Ocelot stopped, scrutinizing Kaz through narrowed eyes. Then, he grumbled something under his breath, and tossed the syringe into a trashcan.

“Fine.” He pulled a chair up to the bed and took a seat. “Give me your hand.”

“Why?”

Ocelot pushed back strands of white hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “I can help you deal with the pain, or you can writhe around in my bed the rest of the day.”

That was a perfect opening for a lewd joke, but Kaz’s mind was too muddled manage one. “How?”

“Hypnotherapy.”

Kaz barked out a laugh that was cut short by a spike of pain. “No. No. If you think I’m going to let you fiddle with my mind—”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Tell that to Big Boss’s phantom.”

Ocelot sighed, massaging his furrowed brow. “That took drugs, plastic surgery, and months of work, not to mention the brain damage.”

“And what about you? Am I going to conveniently ‘forget’ who the real Big Boss is?”

“Listen,” he said, holding up a hand, “With _very_ few exceptions, you can’t hypnotise the unwilling. It isn’t mind control, and I’m not a psychic.”

Kaz’s phantom leg chose that moment to be eviscerated with glass shards. He hissed sharply through clenched teeth, throwing his arm across his face.

How long would this last? Hours? Days?

“Miller,” Ocelot said gently, like he was talking to a child, “I’ll speak to you, and touch your hand. Nothing else.”

Kaz lay there, panting. A bead of sweat ran off the end of his nose, rolled down his cheek, and dripped onto Ocelot’s clean bedding. He could make it to his own room from here, cocoon himself in the sheets, and stay put until the pain passed. It would probably recede enough for him to keep down food by nightfall. Maybe. He hoped.

Damnit.

“What do I have to do?”

Ocelot scooted his chair closer. “Your hand.”

Kaz held it out. “Careful with it. It’s my only one.”

There was a flicker of a smile at the corner of Ocelot’s lips. “Of course.”

Ocelot pulled off the glove, then discarded his own. He grasped Kaz hand, and Kaz was unable to keep himself from staring.

Kaz had never seen Ocelot without his red gloves. His hands were pale and thin, not what you’d expect for a soldier. The long fingers were cool against his overheated skin. Ocelot rubbed his thumb in a circle on the back of Kaz’s hand, and the strangeness of the touch makes his hair stand on end.

Ocelot looked Kaz straight in the eyes, and Kaz had to force himself not to avert his gaze.

“Um…”

“Focus your attention on me. My hand, my face, my voice.”

Those were the last things Kaz wanted to do, but he was not going to back down now. He tried to meet his eyes. At least the awkwardness was a distraction from the physical pain.

“Pain is an illusion.” Ocelot’s tone was soft and slow, and there was something strange about the way he emphasized the words, like he was trying to draw as much meaning as possible from each syllable. “Pain is in the mind.”

It seemed to go on and on. More than once Kaz fought the urge to break eye contact. Ocelot’s face seemed to distort and twist the longer he watched him, shifting from Paz to Snake to Ocelot again, to strangers that he felt he should remember.

Ocelot spoke of the power of the mind, the dominion of perception. Reality was a choice, and one could choose differently. Emotions and feelings could be dissected, organized, altered. Hidden away or summoned to the surface. Ocelot described cold, clear water, and Kaz shivered as if submerged.

All the while, Ocelot’s his thumb moved over Kaz’s hand, straying from its circular path to massage between his knuckles and over the fingers. Soon, the hand feels like the only body part he had.

 

Kaz woke up.

He was still on Ocelot’s bed. The chair was empty, but he heard the click of spurs in the next room. His cane leaned against the foot of the bed, and his sunglasses were folded on the nightstand next to his hat.

Kaz grabbed the sunglasses and assessed the damage. There was a scratch on one of the lenses, and the arms were a bit twisted. It was only after spending a few fruitless minutes trying to bend them back into alignment that he realized the pain was gone.

“Awake?” Ocelot said as he oiled in. “Before you panic, falling asleep is normal. Seemed a shame to wake you up once you’d relaxed.” He took the aviators, held them up, and straightened them before handing them back. They were still a little off. “Best I can do.”

Kaz slid them back on. Ocelot was looking at him oddly, and he realized he was staring at the side of his face. Kaz touched the swelling, and he was almost surprised by the twinge.

“Want some ice for that?”

“It’s fine,” Kaz answered. He’d expected renewed fury after the reminder of being punched down a flight of stairs, but there was only a vague sense of embarrassment. “Guess I deserved it.”

Ocelot shifted his weight to one foot, then the other, like he was eager to leave. He rested his elbows on the back of the chair. “Look. I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this.”

“Your fist in my face didn’t give that impression.”

“No, that was intentional.” Ocelot intertwined his fingers; the gloves were back on. “I didn’t lie about Big Boss’s phantom to play you for a fool. _No one_ was supposed to know, not even me. I thought that a fake Big Boss, providing symbolic leadership was as good as a real one for Diamond Dogs. After the immediate threat of Skull Face was neutralized, I would tell you the truth, and we could work together with the phantom until the time came to join Big Boss. His military nation is established, Cipher is taken down, happy endings for everyone.”

It sounded so naïve when he put it that way. Kaz smirked ruefully. “Lying to and using people doesn’t make for happy endings.”

“You’re right.”

Kaz blinked, stunned. These conversations always took the same route, but Ocelot had flung them into foreign territory.

Ocelot looked Kaz straight in the eye again. After the hypnosis, it wasn’t as disconcerting. “I’ve spent my entire as an agent and spy. I’m used to working alone, keeping the truth from everyone, even from myself. That means using people as tools. But you can’t treat an ally, a _true_ ally, as a tool, and expect to keep them.”

This was the most personal thing Ocelot had shared with Kaz. It could still be a lie, but it fit with what little Kaz knew of him.

“You’re a valuable ally—friend—of Big Boss. Maintaining perfect secrecy wasn’t worth risking that relationship. If I could do it over again, I’d be open with you from the start. And for the record…” Ocelot’s gaze dropped to the floor. If Kaz didn’t know better, he’d swear there was a flush to his cheeks. “If I’d been aware of the Skulls and the risk they posed, I wouldn’t have let you go to Afghanistan. I’m sorry.”

Kaz realized his mouth was hanging open, and he forced it shut. Ocelot rarely admitted he was wrong, usually because he was right. Apologies were rarer still.

For a moment, Kaz toyed with the possibility that this was a ruse. Ocelot had implanted suggestions during the hypnosis to make Kaz better disposed towards him. He’d composed an apology designed to appease Kaz, so he could do his job without the XO breathing down his neck. Ocelot would laugh at his gullibility the moment he was out the door

But something in it seemed genuine, like a puzzle piece that matched the rest of the set, even if Kaz didn’t know where it fit.

“Thanks. That’s...I guess you were doing what you felt you had to, to protect Big Boss. We may be allies, but we’re not close friends, and I can’t expect you to treat me like one.” Kaz squeezed a handful of the sheets, twisting them in his fist. “I shouldn’t have taken my anger at Big Boss out on you.”

Kaz had expected Ocelot to be satisfied at his apology, but Ocelot was frowning. “Big Boss isn’t your enemy, even if my handling of the situation made it seem otherwise.”

Kaz chuckled. For all his intelligence and manipulative skill, Ocelot had a major blind spot. “It isn’t about lying. It’s about loyalty.”

Ocelot arched a thin eyebrow, but Kaz didn’t elaborate. He donned his hat, grabbed his cane, and slowly got to his feet...foot. There was soreness from the fall, but no other pain. Ocelot held out Kaz’s glove, and Kaz shoved it into his pocket.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” Kaz said, limping around Ocelot in the narrow space. Ocelot reached to get the door for him, but Kaz was there first. He wasn’t completely useless. “Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime,” Ocelot said, and Kaz wondered if he meant it.


End file.
